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“I am very sorry for your loss,” Isabel said, slightly confused.
“When I just heard about your hasty marriage, I was horrified that you would repeat my sister’s fate, you see,” Lady Mowbray continued. “But I couldn’t get to you at the wedding, and I didn’t risk sending you a missive.”
Isabel frowned. “What is so important you wanted to tell me?”
Lady Mowbray swallowed and looked around again. Then she dipped her hand into her pocket and took out a bundle of letters. “I have the way out for you.”
Isabel took the bundle and rotated them in her hands. “The way out of what?”
“Of this marriage.” At Isabel’s startled look, she added, “See, I thought you were forced into this marriage. I heard as much. And I wanted to help you, but as I said, I was unable to reach you earlier. Now you seem content, perhaps even in love, but my sister was in love with the marquess, too, albeit not for long. She wrote me letters describing his misconduct and, yes, her own indiscretions, but perhaps reading these letters will help you understand who your husband truly is. And why my sister wanted to leave him.”
“Whatever you say is in these letters seems too personal for me to read. I do not have the right to rummage through your late sister’s personal missives. And whatever I need to know about my husband, I trust him to share with me.”
Lady Mowbray nodded. “Then burn them. I do not need to hold on to the memories of my sister’s painful past. But you might change your mind. If in a few years, you are still childless and your marriage is growing cold… Perhaps you’ll want some answers or a way out. Understand that I wish you no harm. I just want to help you, if my help is appreciated. If not… well, you can discard those letters and go back to your life. I shall not bother you any longer.”
* * *
Isabel had disappeared from the sidelines while Rhys was too concentrated on his lawn bowling match. Neither Isabel nor Millicent were watching him play, and he tried not to let that affect his ego, although his main goal was to show off especially for them.
He scanned the field with his gaze and finally saw Millicent sitting on the grass, watching an actress hop around the tree, laughing merrily.
Isabel was not there, however.
“Not bad,” Gage said as he passed Rhys and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” Rhys said absently. Still unable to find his wife, Rhys stopped the viscount in his tracks. “Gage, do you mind keeping a close eye on Millicent for a while? Isabel has disappeared somewhere, and I wish to find her.”
“Of course.” Gage shrugged and walked toward the tree occupied by the children.
Rhys rushed in the other direction and, in a few moments, finally saw Isabel slightly to the side talking with some lady. The lady looked around then, and Rhys could clearly see her face.Beatrice.
What could the two possibly be discussing?
He hurried toward them, but before he could reach them, Beatrice turned and hurried away. Rhys walked to Isabel with ground-eating strides while she stood there fiddling with something in her hands.
“Isabel,” he called as he reached her side. “What did she want?”
Isabel turned toward him, a frown of confusion on her face. She licked her lips. “I don’t know….”
Rhys nudged his chin toward the bundle in her hands. “And what are these?”
Isabel looked at the letters. “She said these are letters from your late wife to her.”
An unpleasant shiver ran down Rhys’s spine. “Why did she give them to you?”
“She said they were a way out for me.”
“Way out of what?” Rhys’s voice was oddly hoarse.
“Out of this marriage.”
Rhys froze. “Did she describe the contents to you? Do you know what’s in them?”
Isabel shook her head. “No. And I am not going to read them.”
Rhys shifted from one foot to another. “Why not?”
Isabel looked at him queerly. “Because I do not need a way out.”
